Disorientation
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: Written for the Sheppard HC challenge 2, sensory loss. An accident off world causes Sheppard to temporarily lose his hearing. Humor fic.
1. Chapter 1

_Title: Disorientation  
Author: kodiak bear  
Rating: T (for language)  
Summary: Written for the Sheppard H/C challenge #2, prompt: Sensory Loss. Sheppard loses his hearing temporarily in an accident off world.  
AN: This is going to be a short fic, humor, the boys, a break from my long works and the darkness of late! Since it's more of a play, I'm going to post the bits as I finish them. Linzi's scanned half of this for me, but the second half has only been seen by my poor eyes so all remaining mistakes will be hunted down and extinguished as they are found! Attractive formatting is available at my livejournal!  
_

**_Disorientation_**

"On behalf of my people, I profusely apologize. This was a grave, unfortunate, mistake – an accident of the most extreme --"

Rodney bit his tongue and wondered acidly if these people suffered from some mental condition that caused the overuse of obfuscating adjectives. "Fine, it was a mistake, give us Colonel Sheppard and all's forgiven." He tried really hard to keep his thoughts from spilling out.

Venomous, rude thoughts about how stupid these people were for playing with technology far beyond their abilities, stupid for pretending it had been theirs in the first place, and possibly, the stupidest, was that Rodney had let Sheppard get separated from the rest of his team in the first place, leaving him vulnerable for gargantuan complications of the sort they seemed to run into with startlingly regularity.

Mandau, leader of the Lauf, appeared aghast at McKay's insistence. "But, Doctor, surely you understand – his condition, it is not safe to move him."

"I sincerely doubt your medical capabilities come anywhere close to rivaling --"

Teyla smoothly interrupted. "What Doctor McKay is trying to say is that our doctors can take good care of Colonel Sheppard. If you will allow us to dial our world, we can arrange for him to be transported?"

She offered the suggestion in the diplomatic 'you have a choice…for now' manner that grated on Rodney's nerves. What was the point of tact when they were going to take Sheppard from the Laufian hospital, regardless of what their _doctors_ claimed was safe or not safe. It was better for all of them if everyone understood the status quo. Sheppard belonged to Rodney, and Co., not the Laufians. Ergo, he wasn't their responsibility, and leaving him in the care of the same people that had almost accidentally blown him up with a live fire demonstration was not logical or even a blip on McKay's radar.

Mandau hesitated, looking uncertainly from McKay to Teyla, before falling on Ronon. The official's eyes widened and his hands moved rapidly in calming motions. "I…yes, of course – if you feel it is for the best, but before we release him, there are papers you must sign releasing us from all liability."

That was the last straw. What, was Lauf not only full of technological pretenders, but lawyers, too?

"For the record, CYA _is_ apparently an intergalactic phenomena," he bitched, moving to the DHD.

Fortunately Carson was all ready packed and ready to go, something Rodney was going to ask him about later – the whole assumption about them needing medical help on or after every mission was wearing on his patience. Despite rumor, their team was not jinxed, cursed or otherwise in disfavor with the Gods, Ancestors or Buddha.

There had been a trip last week alone where they'd left, scouted and returned without so much as a paper cut. McKay steadfastly refused to do the stats on actual injuries because la la la, ignorance can be blissful.

Sheppard had the gall to look pitiful, lying unconscious in the Laufian bed. They'd removed his clothes and left him naked under the sheets, something for which McKay was going to take extreme pleasure in bringing up later, when he was conscious and coherent enough to understand he was being poked at. There was a large bandage that covered half his head, and really, was _that_ necessary? He'd gotten a scrape, Mandau had said, not half his head mutilated

Shoving his personal "I can't believe you're making me touch another naked man" issues to the side, Rodney grudgingly helped Carson get Sheppard into scrubs for the return trip (and why did Carson pack scrubs for off world medical trips?), then John was strapped to the gurney.

It was at that point that McKay allowed the Laufians to have limited access to Sheppard again. Ronon could lift a lot, but he was one man, and there was no way Rodney's muscles, sufficient as they were, could help carry Sheppard to the 'gate, and Carson's muscles were a step above inadequate. Pushing hypodermics and pills didn't seem to be the magic work-out routine for Mister Universe. They needed a fourth, or just one really strong Laufian.

Apparently Laufian's weren't all that strong, and they ended up getting a fourth body, and together, they each got a corner and heaved Sheppard's gurney into the air. Rodney wondered how one skinny man could possibly weigh so much.

Mandau fawned, "Again, this was a most unfortunate oversight for which we are profusely sorrowful, and do believe in our most sincere --"

"Yes, yes, you're sorry." Rodney threw an irritated look to Carson. "We could update our thesauruses from these people."

Ronon hefted Sheppard's gurney higher, readjusting his grip and grunted, "McKay's been worried."

"Aye, he does tend to get cranky when he's upset, doesn't he?"

"I am not cranky!"

Ronon and Carson shared knowing looks that really did make Rodney cranky.

They carried the gurney out the double glass doors into the sweltering heat and glare of Lauf's mid-day double suns. Thankfully one was in a distant enough elliptical orbit that the incidental heat was weak. Lauf was a hot planet, though, with winter being the equivalent of a Canadian summer.

Teyla was waiting for them at the DHD and dialed Atlantis without preamble. Rodney made a mental note to let her know he appreciated someone being responsible, seeing how Carson hadn't thought ahead to bring enough men to muscle the colonel back to Atlantis, including a Jumper…was he the only one capable of planning ahead? The Laufian equivalent of a medical technician was still eying Sheppard as if he wanted to drag him back to that hospital.

Rodney purposefully nudged him away and took full responsibility for Sheppard's bottom half. "Thank you, but we'll take it from here."

The only reason he'd neglected to remind Carson about bringing the ship was because his very understandable concern over Sheppard's head injury causing permanent brain damage if they didn't get him back to Atlantis, ASAP – he would've thought the ASAP would've been enough of a clue for some people.

In the time it would've taken to return for the Jumper, they all ready had Sheppard at the 'gate, still unconscious and looking vulnerable in a way that made Rodney feel small.

The trip through was as uneventful as ever.

A quick, "He's going to be okay!" shouted up at Elizabeth via Carson as they hefted Sheppard onto the waiting wheeled gurney, and they were off to the infirmary.

"Rodney, my office!"

His hands left the hold they had on the metal rail and he looked at the stairs, irritated, then at the all ready disappearing gurney, worried. Damn. Teyla touched his arm gently.

"We will be with the colonel, Rodney. Go."

He needed a clone. Two of him. No, seriously, it would solve so many problems, like wanting to be in one place and needing to be in another, and even a spare, just in case, because in all fairness to rumor, they did get into trouble more often than not on missions.

Sighing, and turning his feet to the stairs, Rodney shoved wishes away and let Teyla and Ronon worry for him.

Elizabeth was sitting, and gestured for Rodney to take the seat opposite. He was tired, but he was also worried, and when Rodney worried, pacing was good. It helped burn off his nervous energy.

"What happened out there?"

Huh. Same thing that always happened, Pinky…grimacing, he shoved the sarcasm down. "Lauf wants to fight back, and it would seem the previous occupants of their city left behind some interesting, if not incredibly dangerous, weapons."

Her forehead furrowed, eyebrows pinched. "I thought the Laufians were a fairly advanced society?"

So did they all. It was how the Laufians had presented themselves to Sheppard and McKay when they'd first gated to PX9-992. The city was big, advanced, and mostly empty, something none of them had failed to understand the implications of.

"Apparently they are nomads, and found the city empty, just waiting for them to become the galaxies biggest squatters. The technology is way beyond their comprehension. The weapon they were trying to demonstrate to Sheppard fired backwards, exploding the building directly behind them." Rodney shuddered mentally at the memory of the sound, the shaking under his feet, the fear when he couldn't raise Sheppard on the radio.

She leaned back in her chair, frowning.

"That is…"

"Maddening."

"I was going more for upsetting, but either one will do." She grinned at him crookedly. "Go to him, I know you're worried. But Rodney, I'm sure he's fine. Carson is very good at what he does."

Worried enough, Rodney let the opportunity to disparage Carson's abilities fall to the side. With a final word of caution for sending other teams back and watching any other technological demonstrations, Rodney left, his one destination fixed firmly in his mind.

OoO

What the fuck was that?

The guy had aimed the big gun, said "Fire in the hole!" and then Sheppard was flying through the air.

Now he was staring up at McKay's worried face.

That was some gun.

"I _want_ one of those," he said, trying to push up from the bed. Aside from a monster headache, he felt fine, so no reason for him to stay down.

McKay flinched back. His mouth moved, but Sheppard couldn't hear anything. In fact, with growing alarm, he realized, he couldn't hear _anything_. Not the monitors hooked to his chest, not Rodney, not a single sound. It was like his head was immersed in a vacuum.

"McKay?"

Rodney's mouth moved more, and if Sheppard could read lips, he would've sworn it was something like "You can't hear me? Carson!"

So it wasn't too much of a surprise when Beckett came up from behind him, although, the touch on his shoulder made him jump, because he couldn't hear footsteps or lab coats, or words. The things you generally had to clue you into someone's presence when they were out of eyesight.

Doc made soothing motions with his hands, pointed to his ears and mouthed, "Hear. Me."

Duh. "I can't hear a thing." Hadn't he all ready said that? Oh, wait, no, he hadn't. "Sorry, Doc," he offered in apology for the disgruntled tone.

Rodney and Carson both winced.

"What?"

Frowning, Beckett picked up a nearby clipboard, pulled the sheet free of the metal clasp, flipped it and wrote on the back. Then, he handed it to Sheppard.

**_You're experiencing temporary hearing loss from acoustic damage, and you're yelling. Quietly, tell me if you're having any other symptoms other than hearing loss?_**

Dizzy. He was definitely a little dizzy, but looking at Rodney's face, Sheppard figured maybe he would tell Doc that later, if it continued. Probably from his hearing being messed up.

"Headache," he said.

They winced again.

"I'm trying!"

Rodney was mouthing something at Beckett, and Doc got a very dirty look on his face, and pointedly pushed McKay into a chair, before turning back to Sheppard. He took back the paper, wrote another note, and handed it to John.

**_That's to be expected. You were very lucky, Colonel. A concussion and hearing loss is preferable to being skewered by an explosive force. Keep that in mind the next time you stand idly by for a live fire demonstration. Rodney's offered to keep an eye on you if you want to be released. Seeing how I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, I'm offering you a choice. Stay here for observation, or go with Rodney. Pick your poison._**

**_P.S. Your hearing should improve within the next 24 hours._**

Sheppard leaned over his bed and looked at Rodney, sitting hopefully in his chair, then back at Beckett, with his lab coat, stethoscope and penlight.

So, Rodney then.

And it was a damn impressive gun.

Doc gave him a shot to take the edge off his headache, gave Rodney a list of instructions that seemed ridiculously long for something as simple as a concussion, then handed Sheppard some more packets of pills for later. He left without saying anything to John, but he had words for Rodney, judging from the sour look on McKay's face.

John stood, wavered, and steadied himself using the bed frame. Definitely dizzy.

"Don't even think it," he warned McKay. "I was blasted by concussive force – dizziness is normal, trust me."

McKay started talking but when John stared and pointed at his ears, Rodney's mouth thinned, he snapped his fingers three times in a row (why did he do that with every light bulb moment, anyway), then he ran off.

By the time Sheppard had his clothes on, Rodney was back, bearing his tablet PC. With a smug grin, he handed it to Sheppard.

**_Much better than scribbling everything, isn't it? Now, stop yelling, seriously, because you're going to make ME deaf. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? At all – cause that was incredibly stupid. Next time save us all the worry and paint a bulls eye on your stomach._**

Sheppard's eye twitched. "Nice to know you care, Rodney."

The tablet was snatched from his hand and McKay typed furiously, then returned it to John.

_**I could've left you back in that excuse for a hospital.**_

"Next time don't do me any favors," John muttered, as he moved towards the door, shoving the tablet into Rodney's stomach.

His exit would've been better if he hadn't staggered into the wall.

OoO

Sheppard was a stubborn ass.

Why had he volunteered to babysit one concussed, dizzy and deaf Colonel? Seriously, what the hell shorted out in his neuro functions that would cause him to do something so incredibly selfless?

So, maybe it had a little to do with how scared he'd been when he'd seen Sheppard in that hospital bed on Lauf. And maybe a little to do with how vulnerable he looked lying in bed here on Atlantis while Rodney waited for him to wake up…and then the flash of fear when Sheppard had realized he couldn't hear.

Still…Sheppard was a big boy, he could care for himself. Carson was capable, and even though he knew how much Sheppard hated staying in the infirmary after the retrovirus incident, Rodney had things to do, experiments and work. Actual, city-important, work.

Yet, here he was, tablet PC slung under one arm, the other steadying the dizzy man who insisted it was perfectly normal to almost walk into the wall, and had paled to sickening white when he'd thought Rodney was going to find Carson and tattle on him.

Sheppard would've felt a lot better if he knew that Carson had all ready warned Rodney that some dizziness was normal and to be expected.

If he hadn't made the crack about favors, Rodney was positive he would've told Sheppard.

Rodney helped Sheppard to his quarters, pushed him onto the bed, and lifted his tablet to type:

_**You should probably rest now. I'll go get our lunch. Can you eat without throwing up? Carson said you might get queasy on me.**_

Sheppard took the tablet, scanned it with eyes that weren't quite staying focused, and handed it back, looking a little green.

"Maybe some soup and toast," he boomed.

Oh, God. By the time Sheppard got his hearing back, McKay _was_ going to be deaf.

_**Right. Well, if you need me, call. You won't be able to hear, but trust me, I will hear you. And probably need to have my cochlea's replaced. Now, sleep, I'll be back in ten.**_

Rodney flashed the tablet in front of Sheppard, let him read, then grabbed Sheppard's arm that was bracing him up, and guided him down to the bed. Drowsy eyes met his, and Sheppard actually talked at a level half below stunning. "I'm not tired."

"Of course you aren't."

Sheppard's eyes narrowed at what he couldn't hear but Rodney waved it off and made the stupid sleeping gesture with clasped hands against the side of his head and mouthed, "SLEEP."

It wasn't till the colonel's eyes closed that Rodney realized, he still had his boots on.

OoO

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Just a fast thanks for the great feedback, I'd love to reply to everyone and I still might try but it's the weekend and that's when I'm stuck dealing with things like the yardwork and errands and okay, some fun stuff, we just got home from watching Pirates 2! Anyway, here's the next part and if you're wondering, on my journal the parts are separated, here I'm combining the shorter bits into one chapter.

OoO

Sheppard woke up, disconcerted, because there wasn't any sound. He felt pretty good otherwise, but then again, he hadn't moved. Lifting his head caused the dizziness to surface, and he groaned at the resulting spike of queasy in his gut.

Still, no pain, no gain, right, John. So, up he went till he was sitting. Looking at the blurry numbers on his clock, he was surprised to see he'd slept for almost five hours…no…wait. Was that a three? Sheppard squinted, then tried with one eye, when suddenly none of it mattered, because McKay's blue shirt took up his line of sight.

Rodney's face followed, worried, then frowned and said something.

"I still can't hear you."

He jerked away.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking that loud."

Moments went by, then the tablet PC was shoved into his hands, and Rodney went to get the lunch tray from Sheppard's desk.

_**If you were any louder they could hear you on the mainland. Trust me.**_

The tray with the now cold soup and even colder toast was settled on his lap and Sheppard felt he had a right to say, "I'm sure you're exaggerating." Because that's what Rodney did.

McKay snatched the tablet off his rumpled blanket and typed away with crooked fingers. When he was done, he flipped it in his hands and waited for Sheppard to read.

_**Cannons, Colonel. Every word is like a big iron ball fired from a massive medieval cannon.**_

"So now you're an ammunitions expert?" he asked, around a mouthful of…what was that stuff, anyway? It tasted like someone mixed chicken with pea soup. Suspicious, Sheppard swirled the spoon looking for identifying chunks. Maybe he should've stayed in the infirmary.

More rapid tapping.

_**After listening to you get blown up, yes, I am. Amazing what on the job training can do.**_

Dropping the spoon, because there was no way that stuff was going to go down and stay down, Sheppard pushed the tray off his lap and onto the bed. The toast was too hard. His head hurt, and he hated the quietness that blanketed him.

In short, Sheppard was feeling decidedly pissy.

"Amazing," he grunted, barely managing civility.

If he hadn't been watching Rodney, he would've missed it. The slight tilt of his head, the quicksilver annoyed frown. McKay stood, the tablet loose in his right hand, and turned away from Sheppard. He tapped the head piece in his ear, and Sheppard knew he was talking, to whom, though, that was the million dollar question. Probably not Beckett, he'd just come to Sheppard's quarters and look for himself. Weir? Or Zelenka – the two most likely possibilities.

"What is it?"

McKay's hand waved up and down in a shushing motion.

"McKay…"

Rodney turned abruptly and clasped his hand over Sheppard's mouth.

Startled would be an understatement to describe John's condition. Indignant came swiftly after. He pulled back and went to say something (this time a lot less polite) when McKay raised a finger and his mouth moved, before he tapped his ear piece for a second time, made a disgusted face at Sheppard, then lifted the tablet off the chair where it'd been discarded last.

You know…this not hearing thing was really beginning to get on his nerves.

_**We have a problem. How do you feel?**_

Sheppard read it, thought about it, didn't like it.

"What kind of problem?"

_**Ronon, Teyla and two scientists were exploring in the south pier. Before contact was lost they radioed in with complications.**_

Complications?

"The bleeding from the nose and exploding brain complications, or stuck behind a harmless door, come and get me kind?"

The tablet was whipped around, more furious typing, then…

_**Yes, Colonel, they had enough time to send a full report of everything that went wrong, how silly of me to neglect to tell you. Do you feel strong enough or not? I might need your 'Atlantis loves me, loves me not' gene.**_

McKay was waiting with patent impatience, the tablet now dropped by his thigh, his eyes widening in an 'answer me sometime today' expression. Sheppard paused, looked down; still had his boots. "I'm good."

The dizziness and deafness aside, he hadn't eaten enough of the soup and toast to throw up.

_**You're temporarily deaf and suffering from a concussion. I'm apprehensive of what classifies as 'not good' in your book, Colonel. Follow me, and bring your gun.**_

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, looked up from the tablet and met McKay's serious expression, who then tapped the screen, drawing John's gaze down for him to finish reading.

_**You never know, better safe than sorry, I always say. There might be more captured creatures for study kept in that area, and the odds of Ronon keeping his hands off are not so high that I'd forgo a little automatic, high velocity reassurance.**_

Sheppard didn't know which idea scared him more; that there might be more things like the black energy cloud in the labs just waiting for an accidental touch to free them, or, the fact that Rodney knew him so well that he'd added the tag to his first note without even needing Sheppard to react.

McKay lifted John's discarded tac vest and nine mil but they'd have to stop at the armory for the bigger guns.

Leaving his room, Sheppard followed McKay, surprised at how unsteady he felt. Wasn't so much the dizziness, though there was that, but the total lack of sound was becoming unnerving. At least he could see. Blindness…been there, done that. For a lot longer than this was supposed to be. And it'd been on another world where the situation hadn't exactly been friendly and safe.

Not that the nanovirus and energy creature were safe, but maybe Ronon and Teyla had wandered into an area that required the ATA gene to activate releases on the doors.

Simple enough to solve. They'd go, have a look around, wave their hands and poof, instant rescue. Didn't get much easier than that. Although, if the wall would straighten, and his stomach would settle, it'd be a heck of a lot easier.

The guard at the armory looked surprised to see them, but when Sheppard said, "Just going on a little search and rescue, Sergeant, precaution only," the guard stepped back, his face pained, and he quickly pulled the clipboard from the wall, flipped it around and handed Sheppard a pen.

His mouth moved in a 'sign here' kind of way.

As John signed on the dotted line, he realized no one had checked out any weapons since their trip that morning, which meant Ronon was armed with a dozen or so knives, and his super blaster, and Teyla had a knife and her nine mil, but nothing bigger. He'd have to talk to her about that. Standard procedure when scouting new areas was to have both pistol and automatic rifle.

Sheppard thrust the clipboard back to the man, staggered, straightened, and at the hesitant look, insisted, "I'm fine."

The sergeant chuckled and shook his head, before disappearing into the room.

A tap on his shoulder, and Rodney held up the tablet.

_**You've probably temporarily deafened half of the city by now. Are you still dizzy, because I can get Major Lorne.**_

"I'm not --"

McKay covered his ears, one hand free, the other still holding the tablet.

Rolling his eyes irritably (which made his head hurt), Sheppard tried to whisper. "I'm _fine_." He'd been about to say he wasn't dizzy but he realized he wasn't exactly fooling anyone with his steadiness issues.

The hands came down, more tapping, then:

_**Are you sure? Because if you think that you can't do this I'd appreciate finding out before you collapse, and I have to call Carson.**_

Sheppard took the weapon from the table. The sergeant had cleared the chamber and set both clips and gun on the counter for him to take. The man was still shooting him skeptical looks, so Sheppard shoved the clips into his pocket, leaving one for the P90. After it was armed, safety on, he clipped it to his vest, and turned back to McKay.

The stillness in his head was unnerving, but the adrenaline caused from the thought of going out there and facing the unknown was all ready pumping strong. Going back to his room and lying in bed wasn't gonna happen.

Realizing the sergeant was still watching them, Sheppard steered McKay forward into the hall.

And this time he managed not to walk into the wall.

Progress was good.

When it dawned on him why McKay still looked worried, Sheppard's mouth curved in a broad smile. "You didn't get Beckett's permission to take me."

Rodney visibly flinched, and Sheppard was pretty sure this time it wasn't from the decibel range of his words. McKay paused, typed, and held the tablet in front of Sheppard.

_**He said you were fine.**_

"He said I had to rest in my quarters."

_**And since when do you follow his instructions?**_

Sheppard snorted. "Only when I have too, but you, on the other hand --"

_**There's always exceptions. I was bored, and you look slightly less stunned. I would've asked Carson to go but he's more likely to activate a self destruct than deactivate one, so if you don't mind, shut up, and follow me. And Lorne is sleeping, something about a dog creature and lots of mud.**_

The little bit of chicken pea soup he'd managed to eat chose then to bubble uncomfortably in his stomach, so Sheppard actually did shut up. If his mouth was closed, hopefully the stuff inside would stay there. And, with Rodney in the lead, he couldn't see how badly Sheppard was wavering from a straight line. Realistically, he should probably have stayed in bed, but a concussion and acoustic hearing loss weren't fatal, just annoying, and the thought of Ronon and Teyla out there in possible trouble – well, thanks to McKay explaining it, he wouldn't have managed to rest, and Rodney was his best ticket into the action, even if they were both likely to get chewed out when this was over.

When he recognized they were heading to the Jumpers, Sheppard perked up a little and he forced his steps to be even steadier. This was getting better by the moment. Hatch down, he headed for his seat and brought power up.

Rodney hovered, tapped his shoulder and held the tablet in front of him.

_**You can't fly. You're concussed. Move.**_

Shoving the tablet to the side, Sheppard kept going through the short pre-flight steps. "I can see and think; it's all I need."

_**I'm not letting you fly me anywhere because I prefer, oh so amazingly, to remain in one piece. Either move, or I'm calling Carson. I hear the infirmary is having SOS for dinner tonight.**_

His hands paused over the controls. Sheppard glared at the tablet, then McKay. "That's playing dirty, Rodney."

The wince that followed gave him some satisfaction. Not much, but right now, he'd take what he could get. It took Sheppard a minute to make a decision: Teyla and Ronon or the infirmary and being bitched at now rather than later, because he was pretty sure no matter the outcome, he was going to hear how stupid this was…well, maybe not hear…_hey_…

The grin spread. There's only so much ranting a person is going to be willing to type. Sheppard stood, and slipped into the co-pilot's seat, but he tipped his head at Rodney as McKay settled into the now empty chair. "Threaten me with Carson again, and I'm calling your bluff, because ironically, McKay, you're the only one that'll be able to hear anything when he gets pissed."

See – not so concussed he couldn't string two logical thoughts together.

McKay finished bringing the Jumper online, tapped his ear piece and was talking while he typed something to John. He pushed the tablet across the DHD panel between the seats, and guided the ship into the air.

_**Carson has a long memory.**_

Sheppard's cocky smirk slipped. Shit. He shifted himself further into the chair and willed the dizziness, queasiness and deafness to just go the hell away all ready. Doc definitely had a long memory…he was still bringing up the nose bleed comment.

OoO

What the hell was he thinking?

Rodney wasn't moronic, he wasn't even like Sheppard who seemed to live with a thrill of doing stupid things on a daily basis, but taking the aforementioned Colonel with him on this rescue mission, even if turned into something as simple as doorman duty, was senility. Insensate moronic stupid dim-witted…oh, God, the Laufians were rubbing off on him.

It was purely, undeniably, insanity.

The ship responded jerkily under his hands, and Sheppard threw an alarmed look his way, but Rodney was too busy keeping them in the air to type on the tablet for Sheppard to just shut up with the 'don't hurt my precious Jumper' face. He hadn't crashed yet, and the same could not be said for flyboy over there. Considering the largest thing he'd ever flown was his model rocket in fourth grade, McKay thought he was doing a pretty decent job learning to fly spaceships.

"Rodney, Carson wanted an update on how John was doing before you left."

Elizabeth's worried voice filtered through, and almost reflexively, he darted a look at Sheppard, who sat oblivious to the call, still clutching the console in front of him as if Rodney was going to nose dive them into the ocean.

McKay was a decent piano player, an accomplished chess player, and an amazing physicist, but as far as his ability to lie went, he was woefully inadequate. He'd never seen a lot of reason in white lies, or blunting the truth, and for something he'd always taken a high degree of pride in, it was getting him into a lot of trouble since gating to Atlantis; both with the natives, and everyone else. Not that he minded the 'everyone else', but the natives part was proving to be a problem. A real, annoying problem.

"Sheppard was fine when I left."

See. He didn't lie. Sheppard had said he was fine when they'd left his quarters. Better to tell the truth, and the part they didn't know…

"I'll tell him that. What's your ETA?"

Rodney jerked, the ship shuddered and Sheppard went a little green. Damn it. He had enough to worry about; stop looking at Sheppard. The south pier loomed ahead, the open area that was meant for ships to land, clear and waiting. "Right now," he said. "Any word from Teyla or Zelenka?"

"No, we haven't heard anything after the last transmission."

Damn. Exploring Atlantis was like playing with old land mines. You never knew when it was going to blow up in your face. Teyla and Ronon had volunteered to escort Zelenka and Simpson on a trip to explore some newly found labs that looked promising. Teyla had radioed that they were having difficulties with transmitting and getting controls to respond in that area, then a garbled message came through that sounded like they had gotten trapped before the control room had lost all contact.

"Watch it!" shouted Sheppard.

Everything he said was shouted.

McKay cringed, and snapped, "I'm trying, thank you very much! If you'd quit shouting at me…"

Sheppard was watching Rodney's mouth move with an irritated but kind of sad look, and it caused McKay's annoyance to pause momentarily. That's why he'd brought Sheppard…some indefinable reason to make the colonel feel normal even in the middle of his silent world. And if Carson was wrong about it taking twenty-four hours, Rodney would never let him forget.

The landing wasn't going to get him on the Thunderbirds…well, actually, considering he was flying a _spaceship_, it should…the small bounce might have helped Sheppard's hearing because the colonel was shaking his head.

"Where's the hoop?"

Huh?

Sheppard stood, wavered, blanched then swallowed forcefully. McKay held his breath, waiting. God, if he threw up on Rodney, the naked jokes he was storing for later would be posted on the city wide memos. How many Laufians does it take to undress Colonel Sheppard…

…ten, one to pull off his clothes, the other nine to describe it.

Before he could bother typing 'what are you implying', Sheppard straightened.

"Lead the way, Rodney."

Yes, well, maybe later then. A good joke is like wine, after all.

McKay stood, handed the tablet to Sheppard, mouthing slowly, "Hold. That." He pulled the LSD from his vest and flipped it on, double checked his gear, then lowered the hatch, walking out into the fresh salt air.

The walkway to the doors was refreshingly brisk, and they were there in moments. With a quick glance back to make sure Sheppard was still on his feet and following, McKay ran his palm over the panel. The door responded like normal, so whatever had been causing problems was more localized to the lab section the others had been exploring.

The LSD showed four signals in a diagonal line from their current position, about twenty meters away. McKay showed Sheppard and the colonel nodded, winced, and turned his head to cough into his fist, the tablet still held in his other hand, P90 hanging from the clip on his vest.

Why had he brought Sheppard?

Impulsive. That was his problem. Rodney was too impulsive, always had been, and really, he needed to stop doing that. The pay off was usually in negative reciprocity. Like taking the ZPM from the planet filled with suicidal children – they'd almost gotten shot full of arrows, and culled by the wraith, all in the same day. Then his running off about needing a significant catalyst to start the nuclear explosion in the Genii's weapons, and 'of course we have something', and there was that time he told Allina…

"Rodney, is Colonel Sheppard with you?"

McKay's feet froze, and Sheppard ran into him.

Thinking fast, Rodney tapped his ear piece, and started walking again.

"-ay again 'rson….eaking up."

At Sheppard's puzzled look, McKay just beamed. He was a genius.

Before Carson could try again, Rodney turned off the radio. It'd happened to the others, so, instant believability, and when this was over, he'd conveniently find Sheppard napping in the media room or some other innocuous place, and that'd keep them both from getting into a lot of trouble. Elizabeth's patience had been wearing a little thin lately, and Rodney wondered if it didn't have something to do with that time of the month, but he had enough self preservation to keep those comments to himself. Impulsive only took you so far before it left you hanging by the noose.

"What was that about?"

Rodney gritted his teeth. "Volume control, Sheppard. Volume control," he muttered, snatching the tablet and typing.

_**Required check-in. We're good. Are you ready?**_

They had made unfettered progress and were now outside the door that separated them from the life signs. As they'd moved inward there were some disturbing signs of damage. Walls growing algae, puddles on the floor, shorted lights above.

"I'm fine."

The assurance boomed behind McKay. Cannons, little Sheppard volleyed cannons. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Rodney narrowed his eyes because Sheppard looked a lot less than fine. He was still pale, and his eyes had lost what little ability they'd regained earlier in focusing.

Oh, god, this was a bad idea. Why had he brought Sheppard? Was he that desperate for reassurance that the colonel was fine and still alive after their little incident this morning that he was going to risk life and limb when Carson got his hands on them?

The appalling answer was standing unsteadily behind him.

Doomed. They were doomed.

Well, the bright side of one foot in the grave was it's a smaller step the rest of the way. McKay nodded curtly, and turned back to the panel, moving his palm across the control.

Nothing. Not even a sound.

Sheppard pushed McKay to the side and confidently ran his hand across the control.

The door remained stubbornly shut.

McKay rolled his eyes at Sheppard, and grabbed the tablet.

_**Think it open harder. If you can.**_

The last part he added because if Sheppard could do it to him (hello, 'we're all going to die so you better figure something out'), so could Rodney. A dare and a prod was the sure fire way to get the colonel focused.

When he'd found the personal shield, it'd taken forever for Rodney to convince Sheppard to shoot him. He'd finally gotten pissed and took the pistol from Sheppard and pointed it at his chest, pulling the trigger. The ricochet had taken out a row of beakers and sent scientists scurrying for cover, but he'd seen the delighted twinkle in Sheppard's eyes as he took the pistol back, ran a hand over McKay's chest and breathed, "Wow."

Then Sheppard had pointed at McKay's leg and fired without even warning him! It turned out his fear of the shield only protecting the immediate area was unfounded, but that would've been a very bad, painful way of finding out the shielded area was limited.

McKay had yelped (only a little and with perfectly warranted reason) saying, "My chest, Major! I didn't say my legs, arms or anything else sticking out from my body!"

Then Sheppard had dragged him off to the balcony and the rest was history…

"Hang on a sec."

Sheppard's thundering voice brought him out of his memories, and McKay watched as the colonel rested his palm on the panel, head against the door. The latter was probably an excuse to not fall over.

A second, two, three…time ticked and McKay was about to wake Sheppard back up because this was taking sleeping on the job to new levels, when suddenly the door jerked open, causing Sheppard to fall forward. In his rush to catch the colonel before he hit the ground, he lurched forward also, and his mind barely caught the shouted, "Do not let door – kurva!"

The door closed behind him, Rodney barely getting his feet clear, trying to keep Sheppard from hitting the ground. So far they were both upright, but McKay didn't think it was going to last.

"Now you tell me!" he snapped at Zelenka.

Teyla raised her head off her knees, dejected and weary. "Rodney, the doors will not respond from inside. You have just become as trapped as we are."

OoO


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'm sorry for leaving you guys (and Sheppard and Co) hanging over the weekend. My jungle yard had to be cut back into submission, and the fish were gasping at the top of the tank for fresh air and possibly some clean water. The laundry, it gave up at least, and crawled away somewhere ot hide out of sight.

OoO

The downside of not being able to hear was…not being able to hear. At first, he'd had a hard enough time just keeping his feet under him to try and sort what the situation was. His eyes gave him the immediate reassurance that Teyla, Ronon and Doctor Z weren't bleeding, dying or in any immediate danger. Beyond that, he would've needed to be a lip reader, and there was only one tablet in the room, currently clutched in Rodney's hand.

The upside of not being able to hear was that he didn't have to get involved in whatever harsh argument or general bitching session that Rodney, Teyla and Doctor Z were hip deep in. Judging from the looks on their faces, there were some serious words being exchanged, and Zelenka kept waving at the door while Teyla kept gesturing at Sheppard and looking angry.

Judging the reason for her looks, he forced himself to straighten even more. He was capable of being here, and he resented the implied words that he couldn't hear saying otherwise.

His eyes slipped unsteadily past Ronon, then back to the door. Sheppard figured while they settled things, he might as well get the door open. Considering it might be as reluctant on this side as it was on the other, he placed his palm on the panel and waited.

Nothing.

The arms yanking him back caused him to stumble, and the fight to stay upright ended, ignominiously. Falling down on his ass wasn't a good topper to the situation, and Sheppard tried to stare unsteadily at a blurring Rodney. Sudden movement had rocketed his dizziness which in turn increased the queasiness Sheppard had been fighting all morning.

What he'd wanted to do was ask McKay what the hell that was for, but what Sheppard wound up doing, was groaning, curling in a desperate roll to the side, and losing hold of the small amount of chicken pea soup.

Sweating, sick, and really pissed, he managed to glare when the nausea receded. "Damn it, McKay!"

When Rodney didn't flinch away, Sheppard looked harder.

The room was a square lab, smaller than most, without the rows and rows of equipment. Instead, along one wall was a bench filled with things his blurry vision couldn't identify from where he was at. The lights were only half their usual intensity…things he'd processed all ready, but now everyone else in the room was curled on the floor, in various states of recovery from something.

What…

McKay had managed by then to shakily type. He thrust the tablet at Sheppard, then slumped to the side of him.

_**Don't do that again.**_

"What?" Sheppard coughed back another tidal wave of queasy. "Nothing personal, McKay, but my stomach doesn't listen to me, let alone you."

Judging from the irritated look, Rodney really wanted to reply, but whatever had happened to knock the others for a loop, McKay hadn't fully recovered from yet, and instead of typing scathing explanations, he settled instead for a weak wave which promised Sheppard that Rodney would get back to him in a few. Great.

Teyla was the first to recover enough to do anything other than lay around. She knelt in front of Sheppard and said something that he couldn't understand.

"I can't hear you," he explained.

She frowned, then touched her stomach, head, ears and stared at him harder, while still talking. Judging from her sideways looks toward McKay, Sheppard figured whatever she was saying now wasn't for him.

Charades. Sheppard inhaled sharply. He could've been sleeping this off. He should've been sleeping this off. It'd be on his deathbed before he admitted it to anyone, but he wasn't really in any kind of shape to be here. The headache alone was making him want to bang his head repeatedly against the wall.

"Better," he answered her pantomimed question. At least, he hoped that's what she was trying to get.

The skeptical look washed over him, and Sheppard wished she'd quite staring into him like she did. Normally his…not quite lies…but exaggerations of the truth, were enough to get him off the hook with everyone else.

Well, maybe if he wasn't still half-sitting, half-lying on the floor it might've been more believable, _John_…damn.

So, get up. Simple enough, right?

He started to push himself up, and two interesting…okay, not so much interesting, as alarming, things happened. First, his stomach flipped and lurched and told him he was apparently as stupid as some people implied (from time to time), and second, when his body reacted, so did Teyla and McKay. Before he could fully process what was happening, Teyla pulled him down to the floor and said something with a whole lot of feeling.

"Teyla, I can't hear you."

Let's state the obvious for a hundred, Alex.

It was then that Rodney pushed away whatever was wrong with him long enough to start typing. And typing. His fingers were making Sheppard dizzy, and about that time, McKay's fingers slowed, he paled, shook his head and glared at John.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow and waited, looking at Ronon and Zelenka who still looked a little rough around the edges and were staring at them as if they hadn't quite figured out what had happened. Well, that made three of them.

The tablet slid across the distance between him and Rodney, coming to rest against his leg. Sheppard had only managed to sit when Teyla forced him to stop, so cross-legged, he took the tablet and read.

_**God damn it! Will you fucking stop MOVING. When you touched that panel you activated some kind of…sympathetic resonance…to the rest of us in the room, and how there are not four matching piles of vomit remains a mystery. What did you DO? And, for the record, this is not FINE. This is a hundred and eighty degrees from fine, and when I get us out of here, you are in serious trouble because now…now I can tell Carson exactly how crappy you feel!**_

"What?" The tablet loosened in his hand as he stared harder at the people in the room, and found four matching glares meeting his stare. Wait a second…back up the choo-choo train. If they were suddenly experiencing his symptoms… "You can't hear?"

McKay scooted closer, yanked the tablet from him and typed.

_**We are apparently as deaf as you are now, as I said, so could we skip past the whole revelation part of the impossible situation and show me what you touched! I should not have to suffer your...**_

_**Wait a minute…where's Simpson?**_

Rodney tossed the tablet in Sheppard's lap and stood, recovered enough to walk dizzily across the room to Zelenka.

He watched, bemused, as McKay put his hands on his hips and swayed seductively, then ran his hands along an imaginary pony tale, then tapped his foot irritably.

Where was Simpson?

The next few minutes would've been a lot funnier if he hadn't had a missing scientist to add to his list of things to worry about. Rodney might be a genius but God, he sucked at charades.

Finally, in a huff, McKay strode back, practically ripped the tablet from Sheppard's hands, and stalked over to Zelenka, the whole while typing furiously, as if all his frustrations would be eased by the small LCD screen. Sheppard almost felt bad for the equipment.

Damn, his head really was more hosed than usual. He was feeling sympathy for a piece of electronics while the glaring concern should have been that he'd missed Simpson's absence, but then again, their arrival in the room had created some confusion. Besides, he hadn't been the only one…McKay hadn't said anything before. Crap. Doc had said twenty-four hours, so, it had to be afternoon all ready. It'd probably start improving before that deadline. Think positive.

They were positively screwed.

Focus, John…what had he touched. If they had any hope of getting out of here before Elizabeth sent another (and bigger) rescue party, he needed to undo whatever he'd activated. Ignoring Teyla, Sheppard looked back at the panel by the door.

Oh, damn.

That wasn't the control panel that he'd touched. Wrong side of the door and the wrong color. The actual control panel was on the opposite side. So, all he had to do was touch the wrong one again and hopefully this connection to the others would stop, and then McKay could revert to being annoyed with him merely because that's what they normally did. It was a mutual thing.

Stealing a look at Teyla, Sheppard pointed at the panel, then himself. If she couldn't hear right now, explaining it would be reduced to hand signals.

She shook her head and pointed at the floor, her mouth moving.

Sheppard pointed harder, then grabbed his stomach, pointed at all of them in a sweeping gestured and faked throwing up. Then he pointed again at the panel. This was ridiculous. He should be sleeping. Possibly even drugged. God knows, he deserved it after this stunt, not that it'd stop him from doing it again. He was here with them, and that's the way it was supposed to be, and if it involved a little sympathetic puking, well, small price to pay for peace of mind, it wasn't like it was going to kill anyone.

Teyla looked even sterner, and she was gesturing for Ronon to come over. Shit. McKay was still trying to deal with Zelenka, the tablet changing hands so fast it made his head spin, and that is what saved him, because when Ronon climbed to his feet, he staggered, and Sheppard knew if he was going to stop the insanity, he needed to act now, before the big guy got over here and made him stay down.

Lurching to his feet, Sheppard saw enough to know that his instant swell of nausea was felt by all, then the dizziness sent him stumbling forward at a tilt towards the panel. The wrong panel; control panel this time. Hands splayed on the door, he shuffled himself to the right, hitting the one he'd activated the first time and thought, no, shouted with his mind, OFF!

Weak knees caused him to slide to the floor, and it was pure unadulterated relief when Teyla held him through another bout of retching, because if she was capable of doing that during _this_ it was a good sign that he'd turned off…whatever that was.

OoO

He was dead.

Big needles…not even close this time. Carson was going to skip the torture and head straight for the kill. So long fair life, it was…interesting…while it lasted. At least death by scalpel was preferable to death by rapid aging via the big scary ugly fetid disgusting vampire like…

"McKay! Snap into it!"

"Out of it," Rodney snarled. His fingers had been poised in mid-ranting about why had Zelenka allowed Simpson to go through the door on the opposite side of the room without checking this one out, and thereby causing some kind of lock down in the first place, when Sheppard had decided to go all stupid hero of the week again and try to fix whatever he'd done in the first place.

Wasn't that negating the hero part? If you do something heroic to fix the mess you caused, that's not really heroism, it's janitorial duty.

The resulting spike of nausea made his thoughts momentarily pause in misery, and then it was gone in rapid waves of relief, and his hearing was back. Headache, dizziness…all blessedly, thankfully, gone.

But, getting a dose of what Sheppard was feeling made him completely, utterly, freaked, because if Carson knew _that_ was how the colonel felt, and knew that McKay had taken Sheppard on this rescue mission (and who was he kidding, Carson managed to find everything out), then he was dead. Completely dead.

Wait a minute, wait a minute – this room! McKay snapped his fingers, and pointed excitedly at Zelenka. "Do you realize what we've discovered?" He spun around and walked rapidly over to the panel, grinning elatedly. "This is amazing, why didn't I think of this before?"

"Because you were too busy keeping your stomach inside."

McKay glanced over at Ronon, noting how pale the runner still looked.

"Yes, right." He cleared his throat, and dragged his eyes back to the panel, trying to ignore the stress and anxiety coming from the sight of Sheppard being held in Teyla's arms as he rode through another bout of sickness. Dead. He was dead.

No, think positively.

Sheppard's motto, not his, but in this case, the colonel had it right. If it hadn't been for having the walking symptomatic disaster along with him, it's likely Rodney wouldn't have realized what this room was. It was a diagnosis room, where a doctor could literally feel what a patient was feeling…why they'd want to do that, though, honestly; the cost outweighed the benefits greatly in McKay's mind.

"This room is amazing," Zelenka breathed down his neck.

Jesus! McKay jerked his head around, "A little warning next time."

"You are not deaf anymore, McKay. Listen with that all important brain."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I mistakenly thought you were here to help." Rodney shoved past Zelenka and muttered, "One person, one brain, one rescue."

Ronon stuck his foot in front of McKay, and when Rodney paused and looked over at the runner in annoyance, Ronon raised the knife he'd been flipping and said, "Two brains will get us out of here faster, McKay. I've got to go water the trees." He peered around to focus on Sheppard and Teyla. "He needs a doctor."

"I'M a doctor! And one of my brains is worth two of anyone else's. Besides, he's got a concussion, it makes you throw up, see double, look and feel like shit, but short of a bleed on the brain, he's fine."

Teyla called, "What are the symptoms of this 'bleed on the brain'?"

Zelenka exhaled, and slumped against the door. "Nausea, vomiting, headache, vision problems, loss of coordination, balance --"

"Oh, no." McKay met Zelenka's face, then both stared at the dejected, pitiful figure resting against Teyla's chest. The vomiting, dizzy, unfocused, Colonel. "Zelenka, get over here and help me figure this door out!"

OoO

Carson had always pegged himself as a fair man, a good doctor and an accomplished geneticist. All things considered, not bad for his age, and his mum seemed proud enough.

The opportunity of a lifetime had brought him to this galaxy, and his growing ties to the people he worked with kept him here, despite the constant lurking danger every time he turned. He wasn't a brave man by any means, not up for the rigors Colonel Sheppard seemed to run into with startlingly frequency. But fear does not equal timid, and one thing that made Carson passionate was the health and condition of his patients.

Especially when one of said patients mysteriously disappears when Rodney conveniently had to go on a rescue mission.

He'd done some looking, and some prying. He'd started with Elizabeth, and he'd heard McKay reply that Colonel Sheppard had been fine when Rodney had left his quarters. With a knowing scowl, Carson let her know he wasn't fooled. Off the com she asked if he needed her to call McKay back.

At the time, he'd said no, and gone off in search of Major Lorne. He found the man where he was supposed to be, proving that it wasn't a necessary trait to stupidly ignore doctor's orders in the military. He brought the major up to the control deck and asked Elizabeth to get a lock on the life signs on the south pier, while he radioed McKay to confront the man.

The convenient radio interference made him close his eyes and dream off the next time Rodney needed a physical. Not that he'd ever do anything unnecessary, but Rodney didn't know that, thanks to a little exaggeration at opportune times in the past.

While Lorne verified that the life sign alongside McKay walking towards the other _three_ was not any of the other soldiers on Atlantis, Carson made a mental list of what supplies he'd bring on the rescue mission to rescue the rescuers. Honestly, was Rodney that daft as to drag along Sheppard when the man himself had barely been capable of standing?

"Where is the fourth?" Simpson, Zelenka, Ronon and Teyla had gone on the exploration, yet only three life signs blinked…wait a minute… "There!"

A fourth isolated dot moved through the corridors…working its way back towards the central pier…_here_.

Lorne folded his arms and turned to face Elizabeth and Carson. "Whoever that is, they're coming to us."

"I see that, Major. Shall we find out?" She gestured for Lorne to lead the way.

With a last glance at the screen, Carson saw the other two had joined the three that were staying still, and turned to follow Elizabeth and Lorne on the intercept with the other life sign. When he got a hand on McKay and Sheppard for this, they'd be lucky to get off with merely vitamin shots for the next month!

McKay was undoubtedly a brilliant scientist but when it came to things of the body he was woefully clueless. The man fussed over a splinter and then dragged his concussed and deaf friend across the city. He was worse than a child with a puppy.

Simpson came around the corner, staring intensely at the floor and not realizing where she was until she literally ran into Lorne.

The major steadied her, smiling slowly and holding the blond-haired woman for a little longer than Carson figured was necessary.

"Are you all right?" Lorne asked warmly.

She blushed, pulled away and then realized they had an audience. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Major, my mind was somewhere else – Doctor Weir, we've had a little problem."

"I know, Doctor. How did you manage to get free?"

"I'm not entirely sure. We were exploring a room, the lab was different than any other we have found before, and while Radek went to examine the panels on the wall, I stepped into what I thought was an extension of the room, but the next thing I know, the door shuts behind me and I couldn't get it open. I lost contact with the others." Simpson shrugged, frustrated. "I recognized the main corridor leading to the central pier so I decided I'd make my way back and get help."

"Do you think you can lead us there?" Carson knew Simpson didn't have the ATA gene, but he and Lorne did, so maybe they could get the door to respond where she hadn't been able to.

"Yes," she answered quickly. "Easily. It's almost a straight path. But, Doctor Beckett, no one was injured when I left?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Aye, I understand, Lass. And chances are, they're still fine, but Rodney left a short while ago with Colonel Sheppard to rescue you."

Understanding filtered over Simpson, and the woman smiled ruefully. "I'd say bring the infirmary, but I don't suppose that's possible."

Elizabeth covered her smile, and opted to try and remain neutral. As if – the betting pools she participated in assured everyone she knew exactly what they were talking about. Besides, it was understood that the jokes, betting pools, and sarcastic comments regarding Sheppard and his team where defense mechanisms against the very real concern and fear they all suffered from. You couldn't do this job and stay safe; the two concepts were polar opposites. Kate had once explained to him, after he collected his two hundred and fifty dollars from her for winning the mission pool that the entire process was a healthy release for the anxiety those left behind had to deal with.

He could accept that, but anxiety when they were off world was one thing, this, on the other hand, was another. This was unnecessary suffering and he'd be damned if he trusted either one of those two in the near future.

"I'll get my bag, Elizabeth."

She nodded then instructed Lorne to round up a team. This time she was sending in the big guns. Literally.

OoO

Sheppard looked up at Teyla and asked, "Do you have a powerbar?"

She looked concerned, reached for the tablet and typed, then held it in front of him so he could read.

_**I do not think that is a good idea. **_

Of course it wasn't a good idea. None of this had been a good idea, but, at least if he had something in his stomach, then he wouldn't be stuck with the dry heaves that seemed to hurt a heck of a lot more than throwing up food.

"It can't hurt," he tried, shooting her a slightly hopeful look.

In fact, it could, a lot. Every time he gagged and retched, his headache increased exponentially. You know, being severely concussed (and maybe he could shove that down Beckett's throat because he hadn't said anything to Sheppard about just how bad his head had gotten rattled, so really, this wasn't his fault) and deafened was a miserable combination.

She pushed the tablet back towards him.

_**You should not have come. **_

He stared at her then. It was rare that Sheppard telegraphed just how deeply he resented someone commenting on the obvious, but really, she had just taken it too far.

"Really?" he grunted, fighting back another wave or retching with desperate coughs. "Bonding, Teyla…this is one of those team bonding moments."

Think positively, regardless of how close you are to the pine box and a one way trip to the Styx River. Of course, the pine box floated and he could MacGyver an oar with a little help…like a powerbar.

"I'm starving, you really should feed me." Try, try again.

More typing.

_**You threw up on me once, Colonel. It is not an experience I would like to endure again.**_

The letters on the tablet blurred, and Sheppard shoved it listlessly to the floor. "You're not going to give it to me, are you?"

Instead of bothering with the tablet, she settled for a firm negative shake of her head. Ronon's face dropped into view and he took the tablet from Sheppard's fingers and said something to Teyla. She shook her head and said something back.

Sighing, Sheppard closed his eyes. They were in their world and he was apparently in his. And his sucked.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thank you for the reviews, you guys are the best! I meant to comment last time that the LSD was not a typo, LSD life signs detector. I've been using the abbrev. for a while, mostly cause it just makes me smile than anything. So, this little fic is at an end, it was only meant as a light hearted rump so I hope the lack of heavy won't be too missed!

OoO

Oh, this was…this was going to save his ass, literally. Forget the 30 gauge needles, Carson…here is a diagnostics room to make Star Trek pale in comparison.

McKay's head almost vibrated with the ecstasy of the find…_this_ was science.

"We should be working on door, McKay."

"Do you realize what this is?" Rodney turned to Zelenka, his hand still touching the control panels on the wall. "It is way more than a simple diagnostics room, if what I'm reading is right – you can turn off different levels, like…" McKay pulled out a powerbar and held it up. "See this…take off the wrapper and what do you see?"

Ronon stopped arguing with Teyla about feeding Sheppard and said, "A bar of food. If you're not gonna eat that, Sheppard wants it."

McKay turned and gave the runner a 'stop stating the obvious' look. "I _know_ it's a bar of food, and Teyla all ready told you Sheppard can't eat because he'll throw up on her…"

"The door, McKay," Zelenka prodded. "The food bar, yes, is interesting, but possible bleed on the brain…" the scientist took the powerbar from Rodney's hand and quickly smushed it into a ball. "See this…Colonel's brain if we don't get help."

"Oh, that's wonderful." McKay took the sticky mess and fought down the impulse to shove it all over Zelenka's face. "That's what I was getting at if you would've waited instead of ruining a perfectly good powerbar. This isn't just a diagnostic room…it lets a doctor, healer, whatever… connect to the patient, pick the depth of a bond. The sympathetic sensations – that's a default setting! And that --" Rodney pointed at the door where Simpson had disappeared, bits of powerbar crumbling to the floor, "it's the Ancient's equivalent of an observation room!"

Zelenka folded his arms, his hair looking even more askew than usual. He raised one eyebrow and asked, "This fixes Colonel how?"

"Well, that…I haven't…" Rodney stared at the ball of food, then the panel he had been reading. His excitement leeched away as he admitted self-consciously, "I haven't figured that out…yet." His eyes met Ronon and Teyla's and he realized Sheppard wasn't awake any longer. "Is he?"

Teyla shook her head firmly. "He is merely sleeping, Rodney."

"Oh, good." He stared for another minute, feeling conflicted. He'd been incredibly stupid, short-sighted, and dim for dragging Sheppard along. Looking at his rumpled body, closed eyes, it made things clench inside of Rodney that hadn't since that time they'd been trapped in the Jumper with the bug on Sheppard's neck…or that time on Dagan when Kolya had made him stick his palms on the altar of death…and then there was that time when the retrovirus…oh, fuck it, he might as well just accept this feeling as part of normal and get past it.

Determination trampled his fear, and McKay turned back to the panel. "I don't know, but I will…now, work on the door. I'm sure it's within your realm of capabilities."

Zelenka glared, but started on it. "Door, yes, not strangling you…perhaps not."

Rodney's hands paused and he considered a scathing reply.

"McKay, work," Ronon growled.

Right. Priorities. Insulting Zelenka was definitely a step below saving Sheppard's life. But for the record…it was _close_.

OoO

The trip was taking too long.

Carson's nervousness increased exponentially. Having personnel out of contact was disconcerting on a regular basis, but having one of those personnel suffering from previous medical conditions serious enough that he'd almost kept the man in the infirmary worried him further.

An ulcer. He had an ulcer.

No, seriously, he _had_ an ulcer. Biro told him to stop worrying, take some Xanax, learn to meditate, but every time he tried, he was paged to go attend to the newest medical calamity.

He knew his nurses had nicknamed his ulcer McKay-Sheppard, like some kind of space anomaly, on the scans. He'd endured it with the knowledge they were scarily right. Now, he was sure to have a new one, or this one would get worse, because no amount of meditation was easing the growing anger at the stupidity of two certain individuals.

Carson shouldn't be marching to the south pier right now. He should be in his quarters, enjoying the bulk of his day off. He'd treated Sheppard that morning out of…oh, hell, because he couldn't stand anyone else doing it. Days off were rare, precious, and he'd finally scheduled one, putting in for it a month ago, only to learn Sheppard's team was going off world that morning. He'd woken up and waited, sketching the city from a memory of his flight in the Jumper when they'd tried to shoot down the wraith dart only for it to self destruct, losing Markham in the unsuccessful encounter.

When the call had come through to gather a medical team for off world transport of an injured Sheppard back to Atlantis, Carson had insisted he go and Biro had known better than to argue.

Maybe if he hadn't had the day off, he would've insisted on keeping Sheppard in the infirmary, and none of this would've happened…

Oh, bloody hell, who was he kidding? One pitiful look and Carson would give in if he thought it was at all possible.

"Doctor Weir, this is the door."

Simpson had stopped in front of an innocuous door like any other stretching down the corridor. Everyone drew up alongside, no one sure who was going to try first, or even what they should try.

Lorne cleared his throat and said, "Want me to open it, Doctor?"

"Do you think you can, Major?"

The major snorted. "Ma'am, I can get you through that door, just some methods have a lot more collateral damage than others."

A severe eyebrow moment and Lorne cleared his throat, again, this time with a sheepish look. "Right, we'll try 'open' first."

He stepped forward, placed his palm on the control panel and stared at the door, concentrating. A moment passed, nothing happened. Carson was about to say screw the clean approach, bring the torch, because his ulcer was going to start bleeding if he didn't see for himself that Sheppard was still in one piece, when Lorne dropped his head against the door, closing his eyes.

"Major?" Carson asked, concerned.

He lifted his other hand in a 'wait a sec' gesture. "Hang on, Doc."

The door jerked, then slid open, revealing an angry Czech, in mid swear, "Neser me!"

OoO

"Woah woah, don't let it close!"

McKay quickly ran forward, yanking Zelenka out of the way, while Lorne shrugged in, and between the two of them, they got the door propped open with bodies. Rodney snapped his fingers at the marines standing off to the side, startled by the rapid shift in the situation. "You three, stop gaping and use those weapons for something besides looking scary."

Marines might be stupidly brave, bulky Neanderthals, but one thing they also were, was quick on the move when it came to guns and trouble. The men had their weapons off the clips and stacked in the space between the floor and the wall. When they were finished, they straightened and looked at Rodney for 'what next'.

Jesus, did he have to tell them how to wipe, too?

"Everyone that's coming in, now would be good!" The door was pushing persistently against him, shoving McKay against Lorne.

Elizabeth shook off her shock from the rapid unfolding of events to say, "Rodney, you five should come out. We are here to rescue _you_, not get stuck ourselves."

He shook his head angrily. "Look, Elizabeth, I don't have time to explain, just get in here!"

She hesitated until the door pushed forward enough to send Lorne's head smacking against the wall. With a frustrated sigh that expressed just how much she hoped this wasn't the wrong decision, she nodded at Carson.

The next few moments required contact closer than any of them had had before with one another, but in less than five minutes all but Simpson and two marines were in the room. Beckett took his bag from Simpson, quickly, then McKay and Lorne pulled their torso's out of the door's path.

It slid forward, hitting the P90's with a dull thud, and held there.

After a few moments passed, relieved faces spread throughout the room. Carson straightened, fixed in on Rodney and scowled. "First, I'm going to deal with Colonel Sheppard, but don't think I've forgotten who dragged the colonel down here!"

The room was suddenly really crowded for McKay's tastes.

OoO

The shaking was starting to really piss off Sheppard. He was tired, and some jerk wouldn't let him sleep.

"Colonel Sheppard…I need you to wake for a bit…that's it, Colonel…just open those eyes for me."

Who was that? Wait…he _heard_ that!

"Doc?"

"Well, that's some good news at least, it seems your hearing has returned. Now, open those eyes for me, like a good boy."

"Carson, he's not ten!"

"Then why have you two been acting like you are?"

Sheppard was kind of glad he was too woozy to really wake up, because Beckett sounded pretty mad. Let Rodney deal with the pissed Doc…

"Colonel, open those eyes or I'm taking you off flight duty for a month."

Sheppard groaned and mumbled, "Not fair." Playing dirty, Beckett. He was trying to open his eyes, really, even though he knew the empty threat for what it was, but his body just wasn't cooperating. Seriously. It'd hung a 'gone fishin' sign, or something. Maybe 'gone flying' because he felt loopier than a roller coaster in Six Flags. "Did'yu drug me?" he asked.

"No, I didn't drug you." Beckett's hand tightened on Sheppard's wrist. "Rodney, did you give the colonel any medication…he's got a head injury, you know better than that."

Even through Sheppard's dull senses the annoyance bled through.

"Of course I didn't drug him, how stupid do you think I am?"

John heard silence, then an awkward feminine cough. A distinctly sounding Rodney sigh followed. "Right. Forget I said that…look, we think he might be bleeding intracranially, maybe you should do something useful like examine him while I try to finish making this room work, because if I'm right, it's going to fix him."

Bleeding? Sheppard managed to get his eyes to work for a few moments, just to see where he was bleeding from…but there wasn't any blood that he could see through his cracked eyelids, and why was he laying on Teyla. "Where'm bleeding fr'm?" God, they had to have drugged him, 'cause his mouth wasn't working, at all.

Carson's worried face met his lidded view. "Colonel, I'm going to ask some questions, try to answer…"

Answer…sleeping was better.

"N'ght D'c."

"No, no, Colonel, wait…damn it!"

OoO

Carson moved away from the unconscious Colonel, concern making him furious. "When did his altered condition start?" he demanded. Because Beckett was very, very worried about Sheppard's mental deterioration.

"Probably when he was still in diapers…" McKay stopped when Elizabeth cooled to frosty. "Oh stop it, he's going to be fine…just watch." Rodney slid one more crystal in place, and pushed two buttons.

Teyla narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "Rodney, you are not --"

"He is, get ready," Ronon interrupted, all ready dropping to the floor.

Beckett hadn't the slightest idea of what was going to happen, and when the overwhelming sleepiness, headache and nausea hit, he slipped to his knees without making a sound.

"Ro'ney!" he managed to shout after piecing together that McKay's actions resulted in his current condition.

"Working on it…"

Oh, God…he was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or possibly both.

In the span of one breath to the next, it was gone. The blinding headache eased, the fogginess cleared, his stomach took the longest to respond, but even that recovered quickly. Stumbling to his feet, Carson reached to help Elizabeth to her feet.

She accepted gratefully. "Rodney, what was that?"

McKay pulled his fingers off the panel and smiled smugly. "That was me curing Sheppard. Carson, I think I might have just signed your medical retirement papers."

"Doctor Weir, would it be possible to save explanations for later?" Zelenka smiled hopefully. "I have been trapped in here for six hours and there are pressing needs…"

The next few moments would remain embedded in Carson's mind for what would most likely be the rest of his short life, as only escaping imminent death can do in engraving permanent recollection in his memories. The room was filled with a painful high-pitched noise. Zelenka and Rodney both turned to stare in shock at the panel, the marines, Major Lorne and Elizabeth all covered their ears, while Beckett shared a confused look with Ronon and Teyla. Then Rodney shouted, "Out! Get out, it's going to explode!"

The noise grew to levels intolerably loud, but with Ronon and Teyla, they hauled and staggered Sheppard to the door. As the noise whined louder and louder, something Beckett hadn't believed possible, Lorne pushed through, the last one out.

"The rifles!" a panicked Rodney shouted.

Lorne and Teyla yanked the weapons free, and the door slid shut. Stunned, they all stared and Carson wanted to ask what the hell had just happened, when a loud boom shook the hall.

All eyes shifted to Rodney.

He smiled weakly. "Or not."

OoO

Seemed he was always hearing arguing. He woke up to it, fell asleep to it, and frankly, it was making a positive mark in the 'go stand near another big explosion and spend twelve more hours deaf' column.

Sheppard had figured out -- from overhearing the ass-chewing he'd told Rodney to expect -- that John had developed a complication, an intracranial bleed, but by some fluke, McKay's luck had landed them literally into a piece of Ancient technology (the room) that wound up saving his life…well, he might have lived without it, but he might've needed brain surgery, too, so as far as John's side of the whole fiasco weighed out, he was going with McKay on this one.

Of course, then, from what he gathered, the room had exploded, almost killing everyone, and that meant that in addition to Beckett's wrath, Rodney was dealing with a lot from Elizabeth, too.

"See that…he twitched…he's awake, I told you!"

Sheppard peeled one eye partially open and glared at Rodney. "Traitor."

"The heat needs to spread, Colonel, it's a principle law of thermodynamics."

"I'm here because of you," grouched Sheppard. "Isn't that enough?"

The bitter laugh spoke volumes.

Beckett heaved a very long, drawn out, and overly dramatic -- in Sheppard's opinion -- sigh. He pulled his penlight from the pocket on the breast of his lab coat and ordered, "Both eyes open, Colonel."

He did so, but as Beckett waved his light and judged Sheppard's physical condition, he had to ask, "Look, Doc, this isn't going to count against me for future early releases, is it?"

Apparently satisfied in what he saw in Sheppard's pupils, he snapped the pen light off and tucked it away, before testing his reflexes, the entire time staying eerily silent. "Uh, Doc?"

"Face it, Colonel, you just earned a one way ticket to no early releases…ever."

"Shut up, Rodney," Sheppard grouched, then yelped as Carson whacked his knee with what he considered unnecessary roughness.

Beckett smiled at him sweetly. "I'm sorry, Colonel, did that hurt? Because after experiencing your typical level of discomfort when you claim to be fine, I might have misjudged your tolerance for pain."

Sheppard's mouth went dry as he looked from the saccharine danger radiating off Beckett to the delighted waters washing in at him from McKay. The room… "He didn't?"

"Oh, aye, Rodney most certainly did."

McKay's grin was insufferable as he pointed out, "I saved your life, so the allowable anger at what amounted to indirect tattling has to be considered in that venerable light, don't you agree?"

"No."

The smile slipped. "Fine."

"Fine."

Okay. Maybe he was being a little harsh, but Sheppard felt floaty and hung over and getting his knee whacked made him grumpy, especially having some Ancient machine ruining his odds for ever being taken at face value again in the infirmary. John knew the blame fell squarely on both of them. Rodney for asking him to go, Sheppard for doing it.

"Then we're all…fine." Rodney shrugged lower in his bed…his bed.

Sheppard's forehead scrunched in a spike of concern. "What happened to you?"

Beckett chortled and looked up from the clipboard where he'd been noting Sheppard's vitals. "He fainted."

Instant irritation crossed Rodney's face. "I hadn't eaten in over four hours, my blood sugar bottomed out, no thanks to you…some rescue."

"You almost blew us up!"

The clipboard dropped to Carson's side.

God. Arguing when he fell asleep, arguing when he woke up. "I've got a headache," he mumbled, not thinking through his actions.

Carson and McKay turned to him.

Oh, shit.

**The End.**


End file.
